Stones' Diary: Built for Pressura'

Chapter 9.) Misery Loves Company

The worst part of sorrow was knowing that death frequently led to a funeral. Part of you feels the need to cry your heart out and the other part is begging for you to hit something. The anger builds. The tears follow. You barely feel your heart beating. Barely hear yourself breathing. Death left no room for closure. Just unhappiness. Everything feels so wrong. You become conflicted. Feel alone.

Looking at his mom for the last time, Zaire felt as if a piece of him had died with her. His eyes attempted to avoid her. He couldn't come to terms with the fact that his mom was actually gone. When a person loses a loved one, they are never prepared for the changes that will soon follow. When he got the call that his mom was involved in an accident and died, at first, he tried not to care but then the news that followed shortly after stripped the air from his lungs. He couldn't believe she was dead.

He was so angry with her. He spent years reaching out to her, hoping that she would respond someday but she never did. As if she gave up being his mother. As if she forced herself to believe that she never even had a child. What did he do that pushed her away from him other than him defending her against everyone? Family was always supposed to be the most important thing we have in life. Something that you were supposed to cherish and hold dear to your heart. But she left him.

She was dead and he could never get her back. There was so much that he wanted to say to her. So much that he wanted to understand but she never gave him a chance. He hated her. For a while he did. She broke his heart and let him down. He waited for her to show and she never did. He waited on her call but never received it. Not a text. Not a letter. Nothing.

Why was he always getting the short end of the stick? Why did no one ever put his feelings first? Why did no one ever wonder how something would make him feel? Everyone looked at him as a fuck-up and he believed it for a while. Maybe he wasn't meant to do good. Maybe he wasn't meant to have a good life or enjoy it. Maybe his life was supposed to be filled with turmoil.

His mom was gone and he had nobody to lean on except for his best friend; Assyria. People never think about tragedy until they're faced with startling news. And when it hit you, it hits you hard. Like a trainwreck that'll leave you thinking just how much you have taken life for granted. The pain never goes away. But you learn how to cope with it and keep moving through life. That's how Zaire felt as he listened to the pastor cite a farewell prayer as his mom was lowered to the ground.

February was supposed to be the month of love and black history but here he was on the first, burying his mother as the thick grey clouds loomed over the site. His heart was heavy. His thoughts were dangerously silent but his pain. His grief spoke volumes.

As things came to a closing and he could no longer see the casket, Assyria stood close by as the thunder rumbled in the distance. The pastor left shortly after but the pair remained. Staring at the headstone as Zaire had pretty purple flowers decorating it. Her eyes were misty as she focused on remembering to breathe. This moment had her thinking about her issues with her family. Tomorrow was never promised to anyone and she knew that she would have to sit down and talk with her parents and siblings eventually but she needed time.

She had years of pent-up resentment and heartache and she just needed time to process it all. Honestly, she wanted to stay away. She no longer wanted to speak to anyone, but Zaire kept urging her to. She knew he was only looking out but she was hurt and felt as if they owed her the right to be. She felt as if she was the child that wasn't as important as the rest. And after her graduation, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

When the first raindrop had fallen, the pair decided to leave. The ride back to Zaire's place seemed so long as if they were stuck in a time loop. Things were quiet other than the soft music playing on the radio and the heat blowing. Zaire was deep in his head and Assyria was just sitting. Softly doing her breathing exercises as she tried to calm her spirit and quiet her mind. She was trying not to cry but the more relaxed her body became, the harder it became for her to stop the tears from falling.